


Cracked Mirrors and Sunshine

by codependentsoulmates



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: I'm just incest trash, M/M, POV Second Person, Unrequited Love, Written a while ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:51:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codependentsoulmates/pseuds/codependentsoulmates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the haze of red on the lens of your glasses, you can see his profile. His utterly gorgeous profile and you kind of want to drag your teeth down the cut of his jaw to watch your usually so well composed brother squirm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracked Mirrors and Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fdtdexchange @ tumblr. I'm really hoping they'll do another one some time. My prompts were "pit stop, childhood memories, unrequited".

There’s a crimson stain on your glasses and it annoys you but everything about you right now is bloody and filthy so trying to remove it would make it worse. You look over at Seth who’s humming along to some stupid song on the radio and not looking at you. You know,  _well you know Seth thinks_ , that you fucked up but it’s not your fault. You can’t control when Santanico speaks to you and what she makes you think. You  _had_ to set her free and if killing a few worthless civilians is the way to do it then so be it.

You toy with the edge of the tape covering your wounded hand. It’s fraying a little at the end and the adhesive is disappearing. You consider biting off a small piece of tape to stick it down; the little kick of it is annoying you, but you decide against it and opt for settling against the seat and watching your brother drive. Through the haze of red on the lens of your glasses, you can see his profile. His utterly gorgeous profile and you kind of want to drag your teeth down the cut of his jaw to watch your usually so well composed brother squirm.

“Fuck, I gotta piss.” Seth says. He’s not talking to you, hasn’t spoken to you for the whole ride. You know he’s not  _angry_ at you. Just needs some time to not deal with you. It’s happened when you were kids, you’re used to it. He keeps driving, but with a purpose now, looking out of the window and leaning into the wheel to peer out through the windscreen to find a rest stop of some kind. You want to say something, anything, to break the silence but Seth’s annoyed with you and you’d rather not make it worse.

He finally finds something. A shitty little thing with a dilapidated mini mart and a gas station that looks like if you lit a match it’d go up in flames in an instant. Seth parks in front of the mini mart, not caring how he does so: no one’s there anyway.  He kills the engine and gets out of the car and walks away. You sigh a little, disappointed that he left without taking your snack needs into consideration, then jump when he shows up by your window and surprises you by asking you if you want anything.

You turn to him and while you’re not stunned by his beauty like you used to be (you’ve had years to get used to it) it does make breathing a little more difficult. “Horchata.” You say, you hope the broken down place has it. “And Pringles. Sour Cream.”

Seth looks at you, face unreadable before a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips. He reaches out and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in and pressing your foreheads together. His eyes close but you keep yours open. His face is blurry this close but you focus in on his lips. You could kiss him; you could kiss him so hard. You don’t kiss him. You just let your breaths mingle like smoke on a cloudy day and wait for your heart rate to slow down. Seth pulls away, touches your cheek then he’s gone.

Once the door closes behind him you take your glasses off and press the heels of your hands to your eyes. Jesus, you thought you were over this stupid crush. After all, it was just born of a shitty childhood and your brother being the main constant in your life, right? You saved him from your burning house, that has to mess with anyone’s head. That had to have set the ball in motion for you to fall in love with your dumb brother who can’t understand why you can’t deal with hugs that go on just that second too long. You think back to when you realized your feelings for what they were.

There wasn’t any girl that made you feel jealous. Seth didn’t do anything extremely heroic for you. It was just a relatively quiet Thursday. You and Seth were home alone and watching cartoons. Because you were alone, Seth was totally fine with you lying between his legs and resting your head against his chest. He combed his fingers through your hair as the sun set outside and shone its goodbye rays through the window. It hit your brother’s face just right and you happened to see it at that exact moment and that second and it just clicked.

There wasn’t an epiphany, there wasn’t shock or disgust. There was just the “oh.  _Oh.”_ Of the realization of why you got butterflies when he smiled at you even when you did something stupid. You think that’s how you got here. You’d do anything for your brother and somewhere along the way you added murder to the list and now you sit here with blood on your hands and all you want to do is rip your brother apart so he can show you sanity.

Maybe,  _maybe_ if you lost yourself in all that is Seth you wouldn’t need this anymore. Maybe you’d be free of your curse. But there is no losing yourself in your big brother is there? The instant you revealed just a smidgen of what you feel it would be all over. Seth would leave you and you’d lose yourself to the madness. Your brother grounds you in reality; you’d have killed so many more people if you didn’t have Seth.

You can’t lose Seth. You’d slaughter a million families just to keep Seth by your side. Part of you thinks you might even kill Seth to keep him there; tie him to your waist and never have to be without him again. That time he was in jail was torture and it’s only a wonder you didn’t do permanent damage to your body with all the self inflicted wounds caused by anxiety. You inhale; exhale. You’re in love with your brother. It’s okay, it’s fine.

Santanico whispers to you and you think maybe if you can’t lose yourself in Seth, you’ll lose your reality in the broken ribcage of some stranger. Not ideal, but good enough you think. You put your glasses back on, the stain is really irritating you, just as Seth walks out of the mini mart. To your delight, he’s carrying  a tall can of Pringles and a large horchata. He walks over to your side, giving them to you and you say your thanks and don’t say your affection. He stands there by your window for a few extra beats before handing you a small packet of wet wipes that you didn’t even ask for.

The little brother inside you that’s helplessly in love with his big brother sings as you take the small plastic thing and open it. You pull your glasses off and open the wet wipes packaging and take one out. It’s surprisingly moist for being inside that old place for God knows how long and you clean your glasses as best you can. Putting them on, you realize how dirty they actually were and everything is crystal clear. You look up at Seth and you’re a little blown away now that his face isn’t obscured by dust and dried blood. It’s like seeing him on that Thursday all over again and fuck if you don’t want to split his lip open with your teeth and soothe the cut with your tongue.

“Thanks.” You say instead. Seth grins and slaps your cheek affectionately.

“Knew you needed them, you dumb son of a bitch. Why didn’t you ask?”

He’s in the car and gunning the engine in seconds. He seems to be in n a better mood because he smiles at you once he gets in and slaps your knee. As you’re driving purposelessly but with a set destination (and only your brother manages to make that possible) and you’re sipping your drink and sharing Pringles with your brother, you’re overwhelmed with the need to kiss him. To make him pull over and bury yourself deep inside him and let him keep you safe.

But you don’t do that, you can never do that. So instead, you drink and eat and hook your pinky around Seth’s when you’re done. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t offer an explanation. 


End file.
